That night the presents were given amidst endless expressions of surprise and affectionate gratitude, which were brought to a climax by E--'s kind mother presenting Kathi with a pair of china vases adorned with carefully painted clusters of flowers. They brought great tears of admiration into the good soul's eyes. She vowed she would treasure them as long as she lived, and then they should be Moidel's. As soon as our plots were revealed, we found that counterplots had been carried on by the Hof family. Thus, Jakob had managed a clandestine journey from the Olm to Bruneck, and met Anton there, where they had both been photographed expressly for the Herrschaft, occasioning Anton to blush up to the roots of his hair when he, with a smile on his slightly pathetic face, presented each of us, as he said, with "a very humble _Andenken_". Thus, too, a great many flowers with which to laden us had been carefully tended through this inclement season. The next morning, carrying away flowers and good wishes, and filled with thoughts of mingled pleasure and pain, we bade adieu to the quaint, quiet pastoral Hof, to arrive at nightfall in the fortified Italian city of Verona.
For days and weeks upon the lip has hung A precious something for an absent ear-- Some tender confidence but lately sprung, Some dear confession that but one must hear.
The heart repeats it over day by day, And fancies how and when the words will fall-- What answering smile upon the face will play, What tender light will linger over all.
But eager eyes that watch for one alone May grow reluctant; for the open gate Lets in, with him, perchance a guest unknown, On whom slow words of courtesy must wait.
Or when the presence waited for has come, It may be dull or cold, too sad or light: A look that shows the heart away from home Can often put the dearest words to flight.
Perhaps the time of meeting, or the form, May chill or wither what we've longed to say: What fits the sunshine will not fit the storm-- What blends with twilight, jars with noon of day.
Again, when all things seem our wish to serve, Full opportunity may strike us dumb-- May sink our precious thoughts in deep reserve, And to the surface bid the lightest come.